Page 30 of Master Class

Edge scowled. Clarissa held the phone up for him to see.

“Does it have a video recording facility?” Edge asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Set it on the other side of the desk, facing us. I’m going to fake taking you from behind.”

“What?” Clarissa frowned. “What do you mean ‘fake’?”

“Simulated sex,” Edge said. “If we get the angle right, Congressman Jansing will never know the difference.”

“But I will!” Clarissa wanted Edge to fuck her. Not for authenticity. She needed his cock. Her motivation was pure unleashed lust.

“But you’re a virgin, and I told you the first time should be special.”

Clarissa propped her hand on her waist, posed like a naked catwalk model, her weight on one leg and her hip thrust out. Her gaze turned icy and defiant. It was an expression Edge had never seen on her face before.

“Edge, it will be special, for it’s own reasons,” she said. “I don’t love you, but I love that you’re willing to help me, and I’ve been everyone’s good obedient girl for long enough. Now fuck me, damn it!”

Clarissa leaned over the lip of the desk and set the phone to record. She placed it carefully near a sheath of papers and files. When it was done, she looked over her shoulder and arched her eyebrows with an explicit invitation. Then she spread her legs and pressed herself flat against the desk with the recording phone angled to catch a wide view of the entire room.

Nick Edge stepped up behind Clarissa. He had the thick base of his shaft in one hand. He guided the swollen head of his cock against Clarissa’s wet pussy lips and held it there for a long moment. Clarissa screwed her eyes shut to focus her mind and body on the sensations of being fucked for the first time. She clenched her hands into tiny claws and gripped the side of the desk.

“Are you ready?” Edge still sounded unsure.

“Very,” Clarissa said clearly. “Now please. Fuck me.”

Edge let out a long last breath and then gently thrust forward with his hips. He felt the first inch of his cock slide inside Clarissa’s pussy and then a rush of warm clenching sensations as her body gripped and adjusted to the thickness of him. He was going slowly – careful but also teasing. Clarissa let out a deep throaty moan of satisfaction.

Edge thrust again, this time driving his cock deeper between Clarissa’s legs. She began to pant in short shallow gasps. Edge’s cock felt enormous, stretching and filling her in a way she could never have anticipated. With the rush of sexual sensations came a deeper emotion that only another woman would understand. It was a sense of solemn completion; profound and deeply meaningful, like a sacred rite into womanhood.

Edge thrust one last time and the full length of him slid inside Clarissa’s pussy. She cried out in pain and joy, then lifted herself off the surface of the desk so that her breasts swung free and her arms supported her weight. Her eyes were tightly closed, but her mouth hung open, shaped in the perfect ‘O’ of a throaty moan. Edge didn’t move. He held himself very still; tensed and hard as a length of steel. Clarissa’s body was tight as a clenched fist around his shaft, and he could feel every minute spasm and grip of her as she adjusted and responded.

It grew eerily quiet in the room. There was just the sound of Clarissa’s ragged, frantic gasps. Her nipples were hard, and the sensitive nub of her clit was throbbing. Edge withdrew himself slowly and then thrust inside her again. Clarissa’s eyes flew wide and her body rocked. She hung her head and groaned; the sound drawn from somewhere deep inside of her.

“Oh, God!” she cried out, and used one hand to massage her breasts. She was balanced precariously, all her weight on one arm. Edge gripped at her hips to hold her against the edge of the desk. Clarissa collapsed flat against the desktop again and slithered a hand beneath her body to reach desperately between her legs. She found her clit and began to massage it with light deft touches. Her fingers seemed to spread the force of the sensations from within her pussy, like a shock wave radiating out from the point of impact. Soon her entire body was in the grips of an intense voluptuous spasm.

Edge drifted into a slow fucking rhythm, each thrust of his cock driving and filling Clarissa; seeming to touch the very core of her being. He was perfectly controlled – his own lust on a tightly held leash. The time for his orgasm would come, but it was not now. This moment was for Clarissa, and he measured himself – experienced and skillful – until he sensed Clarissa tense in the tight embrace of an orgasm.

She gasped and groaned. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. Edge’s cock pulsed and swelled within her. Clarissa lifted herself up onto her elbows, so that just her hard nipples grazed the desktop. Now the initial awe of being filled by a hard cock had passed, the discomfort had become overwhelmed by entirely erotic sensations and she was desperate to experience every one of them. Her body rocked to each new lunge of Edge’s cock. Her hair swished and swayed across her shoulders. Edge’s fingers clamped into the firm flesh of her hips were like a vice, pinning her in place so that she felt the thrill of helpless surrender.

The tempo of each new thrust was carefully managed. Clarissa began to push herself back to meet him, and their bodies slapped together. Clarissa laced her fingers together and frowned with fresh concentration. A fire seemed to be building within her, sparked by the relentless thrusting friction of Edge’s cock. She gasped and whimpered, then pressed her lips together to stifle a guttural cry of sudden pleasure. Edge let go of her hips and gathered her long hair in his hands, pulling on it to lift her head. Clarissa clenched her teeth and bucked her hips.

“Harder,” she whispered. “And faster.”

Edge grabbed at her shoulders to arch her back. Clarissa’s whole body began to jolt with the fresh intensity of Edge’s thrusts. He had let his own passion off its leash at last. He growled and buried himself all the way inside her.

Clarissa felt her orgasm come from far, far away. It had always been there, ethereal and without form, but now it came roaring and rushing over her like a fierce gale. It tore through her body like a tornado, spinning out from the apex of her pussy and shredding every sense and muscle that stood in its way. She began to thrash against Edge’s cock and then her legs lost the power to support her. She clung to the sides of the desk and pressed her cheek to the timber. A great cry of release was torn from her gasping throat and her whole body seemed to lift and then fall. She lost all sense of awareness. Black filled her mind, splintered by fragments of sound and bright shards of flashing light. The tempest of her orgasm dashed her against Edge’s rock hard cock and left her utterly broken and shattered with exhaustion.

She went limp and panting. Edge was still inside her, his cock unrelenting. Clarissa hung over the desk and gave herself up willingly for his use. She was too broken to speak, too blissfully wrecked to deny him. And she didn’t want to. She wanted him – all of him – and she wanted it to be as wondrous for him as it had been for her.

The slapping sound of each crash of his body against the cheeks of her ass became like slow applause. Clarissa clenched her muscles to grip him and braced herself. Her nipples were aching and abraded by the constant rub of the desk. She flattened herself again and reached a hand back to grasp at Edge’s thigh.

The telltale signs of his orgasm were the same as when he had used her mouth, though dulled now that he was deep within her. Clarissa felt the same kind of hardening of his cock, and a sense that he was thickening. She heard his breathing become hoa

rse and strident, and then felt the demanding pressure of his hands, racked with tension, tighten on her body.

“Cum inside me!” Clarissa pleaded. “I want to feel you.”

Edge hissed one last ragged breath and then felt his cock triggered to orgasm. He came hard; his body seizing rigid as his seed was torn from him, filling Clarissa’s pussy. The muscles in his chest and shoulders strained, and he clenched his jaw. The breath seemed wrenched from him in a single explosive exhalation that left his lungs starved for air. He gasped, and then pinwheels of dazzling light filled his vision. They faded slowly, and it was like waking from a brief and beautiful dream.

Edge stepped away from the desk and leaned against the nearest wall for support. Clarissa turned her head and glanced at him from over her shoulder. She was still bent over the desk.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “That was everything I could ever have hoped and dreamed for.”

“What do we do now?” Clarissa asked, gnawing fretfully on her lip. She and Edge were dressed again, sitting at the desk. It was very late. On the phone, Clarissa replayed the scene they had recorded. It was graphic. Every one of Clarissa’s facial expressions told the erotic emotion of the moment, while in the background, Edge’s face was easily recognizable. It was exactly the kind of damning evidence that Congressman Jansing had been clamoring for.

Clarissa shut the phone off and set it down on the desk, then looked up into Edge’s steely eyes.

“We use this video as a bargaining chip,” Edge said, and then slowly and carefully he laid out an audacious plan. Clarissa listened with rising incredulity, becoming more troubled with each fresh risk that Edge revealed. Finally he fell silent with a heavy sigh of doubt.

“There’s just one problem,” he admitted the flaw to his scheme. “We need to make sure the Congressman never gets his hands on this phone… and we need to find a way to steal the phone that holds the incriminating photos of you. Otherwise, we’re back to square one – between a rock and a hard place.”

---